


What Are Friends For?

by miss_grey



Series: What We Do In The Dark [9]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Blood Magic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Supernatural AU - Freeform, Unresolved Sexual Tension, hunter carwood lipton, hunter dick winters, hunter harry welsh, unbearable flirting, vampire nix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-26 17:24:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19010383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_grey/pseuds/miss_grey
Summary: The wards are going up, Carwood decides to get some fresh air, and Dick and Nix decide honesty is the best course of action.





	What Are Friends For?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovely readers. Here is a chapter I know a lot of you have been waiting for. I hope it doesn't disappoint. :)

 

 

 

Dick emerged from his bedroom to the smell of coffee and food and the sound of low murmuring coming from the kitchen.  “Hey,” Dick said, as he moved into the room.

Nix and Lip, both seated at the kitchen table, glanced up at him as he walked in.  Nix smirked.  “Morning, Dick.  The bedhead look really works for you.”

Dick ran a hand through his messy hair.  “Oh…thanks.”  He mumbled.  “Smells good,” he said, heading for the coffee pot.  “Thanks, Lip.”

“Oh, uh…actually, Nix made breakfast, Dick.”  Lip said.

Dick paused in the pouring of his coffee.  He turned to Nix.  The vampire shifted in his seat a little.  “Well, yeah,” he said.  “Just thought, ya know, to say thanks and all.  I hope you don’t mind me poking around in your kitchen.”

Dick stared for probably too long before he snapped out of it and said “No, uh… thanks, Nix.  Really.  It’s appreciated.”  Then he finished what he was doing and took a sip of his coffee.  It was maybe a bit stronger than he was used to, but he wasn’t about to complain.  He grabbed a plate of pancakes and eggs and settled at the table in the free chair between Nix and Lip.

“So, anything happen while I was out?”

“Nothing,” Nix said, “aside from me finishing that novel.  It was all quiet out here.”  He fiddled with his own mug and Dick was relieved to see it was filled with coffee, and not blood.  “Any news on your front?”

“Yeah, actually.”  Dick sat his fork down and addressed the both of them.  “Harry just called.  His contact has created a very strong ward for us that he promises will keep all things supernatural off the property.”  Dick noticed Nix’s eyes flicker to the table and stay there.  “But I told him we’d need one we could make exceptions to.”  Nix jerked his gaze up to Dick’s and their eyes locked for a moment.  Was that…gratitude?  Relief?  Hope?  Now wasn’t the time to assess it.  “So Harry has to call the guy back and ask if there’s a way to do that.  Hopefully it won’t be too long and we can get started.”

“That’s great news,” Lip said, smiling at Dick.  “Will we need any supplies?  I can head into town for a bit.”

“Well,” Dick said, “the spell only requires two things.  Iron nails.  And, uh,” He glanced at Nix, who was listening intently.  “My blood.”  Nix’s hands tightened around his coffee mug and Dick _saw_ the vein in his neck jump.  “So.”  Nix raised his eyes warily to Dick’s.  “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

Dick could see Nix gulp.  “Uh…no.  I can handle it.  But I might need more blood to deal with it.”

Lip frowned.  “Aren’t there still 4 bottles in the fridge?”

“Yeah.”  Nix said, his fingers still tight around the mug.  “I might need more.”

“Wow, okay.  Well… I can pick some up in town.  They’d have it at the butcher, right?”

“Yeah,” Nix nodded.

“Lip, do you think that’s… safe?  Heading into town on your own?”

Lip shrugged.  “Maybe.  Maybe not.  But I’m going stir-crazy here, Dick.  I think it’ll do me more good to get out for a couple hours.  And anyway, I’ve got that exorcism now, right?  And you know I’ll call if anything comes up.”

Dick still didn’t like it, but he understood.  “Alright.  Well, I guess while you’re in town, I’ll hold down the fort.  If Harry calls before you get back, I’ll go ahead and get started on the wards.”

“Sounds good.”

“Nix, you alright?”  Dick asked.  The vampire still hadn’t moved much. 

“Yeah, I’m…yeah, I’ll be fine.  But I think I’d better start preparing now.”  Then, with jerky movements like he was fighting to control himself, he walked to the fridge, pulled out a bottle of blood, popped the top, and drained it in 30 seconds flat.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Carwood breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled the Jeep into town and parked it in one of the main lots.  He’d been cooped up for far too long—with his cracked ribs and then this demon thing, he felt like he hadn’t been able to breathe free air in a while.  So, while he was here to pick up some pig’s blood for Nix, he intended to spend a couple leisurely hours just walking around and enjoying the freedom.  After all, he seriously doubted that the demon would attack him in the middle of the town when it had been so cautious before.  And anyway, Carwood was a big boy, and a hunter to boot—he could take care of himself.

He wandered to the local bookstore and enjoyed browsing the new releases for a while.  He picked up a couple new mystery books and a historical fiction novel for Dick. 

Then he went to the park and just soaked up the sun.  This was perhaps what he’d missed the most—just being able to sit outside and enjoy some fresh air.  He hadn’t been able to at the house once they realized the wards weren’t working right.  Finding those dead vampires on the front porch had really unsettled both he and Dick.  But hopefully once the new wards were set, he’d be able to enjoy the outdoors again. 

After taking a leisurely stroll, Carwood made his way to the little café next to the park.  It’d been a while since he’d stopped in.  Inside, the shop was bustling—couples sat bent close to each other over the small tables, and lone individuals read books or newspapers, or typed away on their laptops.  Carwood made his way to the counter and smiled at the young barista.  The girl smiled back.  “Hello, sir, what can I make for you today?”

“Hi,” Carwood said, “Can I get a…vanilla latte, please?  With a dash of cinnamon?”

The young woman looked surprised, but pleased by his order.  “Sure thing.  Coming right up, Mr…?

“Carwood.”  He said, handing over some cash. 

“Carwood.  Your order will be at the other end of the bar in a few minutes.”

“Thanks.”  So, Carwood made his way to the end of bar to wait, and in the meantime he pulled his two mystery novels from his bag, wondering which to read first.  He’d just settled on one about a retired LAPD detective who was trying to find her missing partner, when his name was called. 

Carwood shoved the books back into his bag and reached for his coffee, humming in pleasure at the soft heat that warmed his hands.  He lifted the cup to his nose.  Mmmm…it smelled so good.  Just like home.  Well… what home had used to smell like, before.

Carwood turned with his purchase and then, suddenly, bumped into a man behind him and spilled his coffee down the man’s shirt front.  “Oh geez, sorry!”  Carwood gasped, reaching for a napkin to clean the mess.  He pressed it to the man’s shirt before he realized what he was doing and took a step back.  He raised his eyes to find the man gazing back at him with a hint of concern, but a soft smile on his lips.  The man’s hazel eyes tracked Carwood’s movements and it left Carwood feeling odd-footed for a moment.  “Sorry,” Carwood tried again, “I didn’t see you there.”

The man shook his head.  “No, no.  It’s my fault.  I ran right into you.  And I spilled your drink.  Please, allow me to buy you a new one.”

Carwood waved him off.  “Oh, thanks, but it’s not necessary, really.”

The man’s soft smile widened, just a bit, and he said “Please.  I insist.”

Carwood gazed down at his half-empty cup now and he finally caved.  “Alright.  Thank you.”

“Not a problem.  I’m Ron, by the way.  Ron Speirs.”  He held out his hand.

Carwood took it—the man’s hands looked soft, but they were strong, with the hint of calluses on his fingers, like he did some manual work, or perhaps had a physical hobby.  The handshake was a good one.  Solid.  “I’m Carwood Lipton.”

“Well, Carwood, it’s nice to meet you.  What were you drinking?”

Carwood felt a slight blush rise to the tips of his ears.  “Vanilla latte, with cinnamon.”

Ron’s grin grew even wider, as if the information genuinely pleased him.  “Perfect.  I was just about to order my own.  Excuse me for a moment.”  Then the admittedly charming man went to the counter to order their drinks, and Carwood dumped the rest of his first cup.

Ron was back in a moment, and their drinks were served shortly after.  “So,” Ron said, blowing lightly on his coffee, “come here often?”  Carwood chuckled.  “Cheesy, I know, but you gotta start somewhere, right?”

Carwood cocked his head.  Was this man flirting with him?  For real?  He was rather handsome, with his brilliant hazel eyes and wavy brown hair.  “Sure,” Carwood smiled.  “Not often, but sometimes, when I have a free moment.”

“Hmmm,” Ron hummed as he neatly maneuvered them to a small table by the window.  He nodded toward the seat, a question, and Carwood agreed by taking a seat.  “Busy man, are you?”

Carwood took a sip of his latte and it tasted like heaven.  “I can be,” he answered.  “By the way, this is delicious.  Thanks again.”

“My pleasure.”  Ron quirked a brow.  “So, what brings you out and about today, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Just had an afternoon off and decided to take it easy.”  Carwood motioned toward the bag from the bookstore.

“Ah.  I was meaning to stop there later, actually.  What type of books do you enjoy?”

Carwood felt another blush coming on.  “I’m a fan of mysteries, actually.”

“Mysteries, huh?”  Ron smiled.  “Can’t fault that.  I’m a fan of a good mystery now and then as well.  Though I usually prefer nonfiction.  History, to be precise.”

“Really?  Any particular period?”

“I enjoy the Classics.  And Medieval works.  I hope it doesn’t make me sound too stuffy, but I uh… study Classics, actually.”

“That’s interesting.  Do you teach?”

Ron waved a hand.  “I pick up a class once in a while.  But mostly I do translation work.  It’s nice—I get to make my own hours, pick up my own contracts, and I get to use my Greek and Latin.  I’m sure my teachers never thought I’d get this much use out of it.”

“Huh.  That’s interesting.  They say it’s a dead language, Latin, but it still has its uses.”

“Very true.”  Ron took a sip of his coffee and regarded Carwood over the rim.  “So what do you do?”

“I’m a consultant.”  Carwood twisted his coffee slightly in his hands.  “For a small security firm.”

“Do you like what you do?”

Carwood sighed, weighing the realities of his life.  “It has its ups and downs, I supposed, but overall, yeah.  It’s rewarding to be able to help people.”

Ron smiled softly at him and raised his coffee, as if in a toast.  “The world needs more people who think like that.”

Carwood waved his words away.  “I’m sure _most_ people think like that.”

Ron chuckled.  “I think you’re giving people too much credit, but it’s admirable nevertheless.”

“Well,” Carwood said, suddenly realizing the time, “thank you.  For that, and for the coffee.  I hate to just run, but I need to finish an errand for a friend.”

“Sure,” Ron said, standing as Carwood did.  “Thanks for letting me buy you that coffee.  I hope we run into each other again.”

“Yeah,” Carwood said, suddenly feeling warm.  “Me too.”  Then, casting one last smile at Ron, Carwood made his way out of the café before he could do something stupid like give the guy his number.

 

 

* * *

 

 

After downing two bottles of blood, Nix finally called it and said he was turning in.  Dick watched him go silently.  After the door to the office clicked shut, Dick exhaled and let his shoulders relax.  He’d been tense ever since he mentioned his own blood and Nix had reacted so strongly.  If just _mentioning the words_ had that sort of effect on the vampire, what would Dick’s actual blood do?  Dick shuddered.  He’d been going back and forth about the decision he’d made in giving Nix his address.  It was insane.  He knew that.  But…some part of him… _wanted_ what Nix was offering.  He wanted to believe someone who wasn’t a hunter cared about him.  That Dick was more than that.  And he wanted to believe in the goodness of people—that even monsters could be redeemed.  And maybe, just maybe… he liked the way Nix looked at him and spoke to him.  Maybe he wanted to believe that he could have that someday.  With someone.  Even if that someone was… well.  Soon enough, Dick would learn whether he’d made a mistake in inviting Nix here.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Around noon, Harry called back with the exception.  “My guy says it’ll work.”  Harry promised.

“I hope so.”  Dick murmured.

“Look, I know it’s not really my place, Dick, but I gotta ask.  Are you sure you know what you’re doing with this vampire?”

Dick snorted.  “I wish I did, Harry.”

“I just don’t get it.”  Harry muttered.  “Guy shows up and just…what?  Decides he’s going to…I dunno….  What does he even want, anyway?”

“That’s a good question,” Dick said, running a hand through his hair. 

“He hasn’t said?”

“Oh, he’s said.”  Dick chuckled.  “But I never can tell when he’s being serious or just playing games.”

“Well, what’s he said?”

Dick balked.  “Come on, Harry.  Don’t do that.”

“Do what?  I’m a concerned friend.  I’m asking.  And to be honest, Kitty’s asking too.  In fact, she’s right here.”

Then, Dick heard her holler from the background “ _Is he attractive?!”_

“Ignore that.”  Harry insisted.  Then, aside to his wife “It doesn’t matter if the vampire’s attractive!”  Harry paused, then, returning back to his conversation with Dick:  “Well, okay…maybe she has a point.  Is he?”

“Harry.”

“What’s he want, Dick?”

“Aside from my blood?” Dick shrugged in discomfort.  “He’s mentioned getting me to sleep with him.” He chuckled awkwardly.  “But I think that’s just his personality, really.  I mean, Lip and I told you how we first found him, right?  In bed with three women.”

“Women he was feeding on.  Yeah, you mentioned.”  Harry huffed.  “But you’re not like that, Dick.  So why is he _there_?”

Dick decided he needed some fresh air, so he escaped to the porch and began to pace.  “Because… sometimes… it seems like he might actually care.  And I know it’s crazy, okay.  I don’t know why he’d care.  But he seems to have decided that he’s going to care, one way or another.  I mean, he texts me to ask if I’m safe.  And he gave us the warning about Lip.  I can’t think of any good reason for him to do those things if he didn’t mean it.”  Dick shook his head.  “You know me, Harry.  I try to think things through, you know, examine all alternatives.  But I mean…if he wanted to hurt me, or try to seduce me…he’s had several opportunities.  But he didn’t try either.”

“What if he’s playing the long game, Dick?  What if he’s just trying to get you to trust him?”

Dick shook his head.  “I’ve thought of that, too.  But the thing is, Harry…he’s inside my home right now.  Sleeping on an army cot in my office.  Sleeping.  In the home of two hunters.  I’m the one with the upper hand here.  He’s having to trust more than I am.”

Harry sighed.  “Just…promise me you’ll be careful with him.  If you have a new ally, I’ll be very happy for you, Dick.  But…just remember what he is.  And don’t let your guard down.”

“I promise.”  Dick said.  Then, to relieve the weight of their conversation, he smirked and said:  “And tell Kitty that he is.  Attractive, I mean.”  Then, with a final goodbye, Dick ended the call.

“Well,” Dick said, pocketing his phone, “might as well get a start on those wards.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

Dick walked the perimeter of his property and did what Harry’s guy had instructed: he cut a line into his arm and dribbled blood on the iron nails.  Then he buried them deep in the four corners of his property.  He cupped his hand over his still-bleeding wound while he walked the perimeter three times, chanting the (French?) words he’d been given.  At one point, he laid his bloody palm on the grass and murmured _“Lewis Nixon,”_ like he’d been told.  That was the loophole, the exception.  Dick thought it was ironic, but fitting that he had to seal it with blood.

Afterward, nothing felt different, but Dick trusted Harry and Harry said it’d work.  So Dick returned to the house but washed up and bandaged out back at the shed.  He figured it’d be a good idea to keep his distance from the house until Lip got back.  So, after Dick’s arm was bandaged, he found a sunny place to lay down in the grass, and he closed his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

Dick jerked awake some time later to the sound of tires crunching on the grit of the drive.  Realizing that Lip was home, Dick heaved himself to his feet, wincing at the slight pull of dried blood on his arm, and made his way over to his friend.  Lip’s eyes went straight to Dick’s arm.  “Is it done, then?”

“Yep.”  Dick spread his arms wide to indicate his property.  “Finished a little while ago.  We’re warded now.”

“Good.”  Lip lifted a bag.  “I brought blood.  Figure I’ll go leave it by his door.”

“Thanks, Lip.”  Dick murmured.

“No problem.”

 

* * *

 

 

Less than an hour later, Lip came back out onto the porch to sit with Dick.  “He’s awake.  I just saw him grab the blood.”

“Yeah,” Dick said, casting his eyes out toward the horizon.  “It’ll be dark soon.”

So he and Lip sat, taking in the fresh air like they used to, and waited.

 

* * *

 

 

As soon as the sun had dipped below the horizon, the front door opened and Nix stepped out, looking a little shaky, and holding a bottle of blood.  He gazed down at Dick where he sat on the steps for a moment before he muttered “Hey,” then took a long gulp of his blood.

“Hey,” Dick answered.  “How are you feeling?”

“I’m…managing,” Nix said, raising his bottle.  “Thanks for this,” Nix said, directing his eyes toward Lip.

“Sure,” Lip nodded.  “Is it enough?”

Nix took a deep breath, then let it out slowly.  “It will be.”  He took another long pull from the bottle.  “Mind if I join you?”

Dick felt a prickle of tension crawl up his spine, but he shrugged. “Sure.”

So then Nix sat himself down on the steps next to Dick, but with enough space for another person between them.  “It go okay?  The warding, I mean?”  Nix asked, casting his gaze out toward the horizon.

“Yeah.  Pretty simple.  Now we find out if it worked.”

“Hmmm,” Nix murmured, “and you?”  He asked, eyes finally moving back to Dick—they flickered to the bandage on his arm before Nix pulled them back to meet Dick’s eyes.  “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Dick said.  “Just a scratch.”

“Hey,” Lip said, suddenly standing, “I’m gonna head in to get dinner started.”  Then he headed into the house without even a backward glance.  Dick frowned, knowing a strategic retreat when he saw one.

Silence settled again once he’d gone.  Nix took another deep swallow from his bottle.  Then, “I could smell it.  When you cut yourself…it woke me up.”

Dick gaped.  “That’s…wow, really?  I had no idea vampires’ sense of smell was that strong.”

Nix chuckled.  “Well, it’s not always.”

Dick shifted slightly.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to be having this conversation.  “So why this time?”

Nix lifted his dark eyes to Dick’s face and he frowned slightly, like he was fighting himself for a moment.  “Not sure you wanna hear it, to be honest.”

“Tell me.  Please.”  Dick forced his shoulders to relax.  “Honesty, remember?”

Nix sighed and his eyes fluttered closed.  His shoulders sagged.  “You smell really good.  Like… _really_ good.”

“Oh.”  Dick gulped.

“It was enough to wake me.”  Nix swallowed thickly but kept his eyes shut, like maybe that might help him keep his control.  “I told you that you wouldn’t wanna know.”

Dick heaved a sigh.  “It’s strange.  But… better to know.”

“You really believe that?”

“Yeah, I do.”  Dick gazed at Nix.  The vampire looked tortured—he sat, rigid, his eyes closed, bottle clutched firmly in white-knuckled hands, fingers trembling just slightly.  “How hard is this right now?”

Nix gave a throaty, pained, chuckle.  “Oh, it’s a challenge.  But I’ve got it under control, if that’s what you’re asking.”  Eyes still closed, he raised the bottle to his plush, pink lips, and drained it.

“How many is that now?”

“Bottle three since I woke up.”  Nix cracked an eye open and looked at Dick.  He heaved another heavy, burdened sigh.  “I know you don’t have any real reason to trust me, but… I won’t… _do_ anything.  I’m in the habit of wanting, Dick.  But I don’t take.  Not for a long time.”  Nix closed his eyes again.  It seemed to help.

“Alright, Lew.”  Dick said, before he caught himself.

Nix’s eyes opened, softly, and he gazed at Dick through the gathering darkness with his wide, chocolate eyes.  “Lew?”

Dick shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable under the weight of the gaze.  “Sorry, it just slipped out.”

“No, it’s…”  Nix shook his head.  “It’s nice.  No one’s called me that in a really long time.”  Nix set the empty bottle next to him on the porch and clutched his hands together.  He was still a tightly-wound spring and Dick hurt just looking at him.

“Hey Lew, what did you do in the army?”

“What?”  Nix’s eyes fluttered back open and he looked confused now, like the question had jolted him out of his inner battle.  Good.

“In the army.  During the War.  What did you do?”

Nix cocked his head, eyes going slightly distant.  His shoulders relaxed a fraction and he loosened his bone-crushing grasp on his hands.  “I was in France,” he muttered, as though he could see it play out before him.  “I worked with the Signal Corps.  Communications.  Intelligence gathering.”  Nix blinked, and he seemed to see Dick once again.  “It was the only thing I was ever really good at.”

“Did you know that’s what you wanted to do when you joined up?”

Nix shook his head, sadly, again seeming lost to the past.  “I was drafted.  1917.”

“Why the Signal Corps?”

Nix shrugged, softly.  “I was a Yale graduate.  I spoke multiple languages.  It was the most logical place they could think to put me.”

Dick whistled.  “Yale, huh?”

Nix snorted.  “Yeah.  Nixon family tradition.”  He paused.  “It was, I mean.”

“Right.”  Dick forced himself to relax and lean back on his elbows.  He hoped Nix would get the idea and do the same.  “What did you want to do?  After Yale, I mean.”

Nix chuckled, shaking his head sadly.  “I had no plans, Dick.  Like I said… the army was the only thing I was ever really good at.”

And that was just too damn sad to bear, so Dick pushed caution aside for a moment, and he nudged Nix with his knee.  “Not the only thing, I’m sure.  I bet you were a really good friend, too.”

“No,” Nix chuckled, nudging back slightly.  “That inclination is a rather recent development, believe it or not.  You see, I met this crazy redhead….”  Dick’s lips curled into a smile, and across from him, Nix’s did too.  Nix’s eyes traveled slowly across Dick’s face, flickering to his lips, then his neck, then back up to Dick’s eyes, where they held.  “Thanks for distracting me, Dick.  I feel much better now.”

“Well,” Dick said, swallowing thickly under the weight of Nix’s gaze.  “What are friends for?”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love! Please let me know what you think :) Also, feel free to come say hi on tumblr. I'm @realhunterswearplaid.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Coffee shop meet cute](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19329376) by [Lysel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lysel/pseuds/Lysel)
  * [What Are Friends For?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21422209) by [Lysel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lysel/pseuds/Lysel)




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